YAOI TIME! (AKA FINALLY RED WRITES GAY PORN.)

John froze for a fraction of a second before leaning down and crashing their lips together once more. Sherlock, who had improved a great deal since their first kiss, now took over the role of dominance.

After what could have been days, Sherlock was the first to break the kiss.

"John." He said, his voice deep and husky. It sent a shiver down John's spine.

Sherlock reached up with a long arm and snaked it around John's neck. He yanked down, pushing the smaller man against his chest. He resumed the contact between their lips; he was desperate and the hunger for John's mouth on his was too much to retain his usual Sherlock composure and stoicism.

What he was now concentrating on, other than the clumsy meeting of lips and tongues in a flurry of need and passion, was the fact that John's hand was slowly and shakily making its way to Sherlock's cock. The doctor made contact and gripped it gently, and Sherlock nearly lost control there.

The consulting detective made an odd, animal sound at the back of his throat, a sound he'd never made before and a sound that John wanted so badly to hear again. He moved his thumb along the shaft, causing Sherlock to arch his back up against him in pleasure and their mouths parted.

"J-Jo...hn." John thought Sherlock dropping his usually cold demeanour for this vulnerable, hungry one was incredibly...sexy. The sound of Sherlock's voice like this was the best thing he'd heard. He rubbed one of the fingers on his free hand over his now-swollen lips. He could taste Sherlock on him and he tasted /good/.

John smiled wickedly and got off of Sherlock, at which the latter whined. However, John responded with the command of "turn over," and the tall man quickly obeyed, positioning himself on his knees while gripping the headboard of the bed. He rested his forehead against the wood, his face and neck glistening with sweat and his curls matting to his skin.

John inched forward. He'd never done this before...certainly not with another man, anyway. What if he hurt Sherlock? What if he didn't do it right? What if he was awkward? What if he messed it all up?

Swallowing all this, he rested his hands on Sherlock's arse.

"Lubricant. Condom."

Oh. Right.

"Er..."

"Top drawer. Hurry, John."

John moved to the right side of the bed, hastily yanking the poor little drawer open and grabbing the necessary items.

He prepared himself, rolling the condom onto his hard member. Just as he was about to cover his fingers with the contents of the small bottle, his eyes darted upward and he bought Sherlock staring at him. Or rather, at John's penis.

"You like to watch?"

Sherlock swallowed hard before answering. "Yes."

His breath came out in jagged rasps and his heart thumped erratically in his chest.

John smirked at him and covered himself with the lubricant, not breaking eye contact with Sherlock the whole time, but the consulting detective left John's stare every few seconds to look down at his crotch. He couldn't help it.

John moved quickly, darting over to Sherlock and shoving him hard against the headboard. Sherlock cried out in shock and something else...arousal. He /liked/ it when John took control.

"Do you like it when I do this?"

John whispered in his ear, his teeth grazing Sherlock's earlobe as he wound his fingers into the brunette's curls and tugging not-so-gently.